


That Thing We Do

by zvi



Category: NSYNC
Genre: M/M, Popslash - Freeform, Pre-Europe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-12
Updated: 2002-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvi/pseuds/zvi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance: is he in or is he out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Thing We Do

**Author's Note:**

> Trixie [wanted something based on Driven](http://www.livejournal.com/talkread.bml?journal=trixiesfic&;amp;amp;amp;itemid=53612)

Mr. Wright stopped by the house after the first day negotiating with BMG. He wasn't smiling, but he walked steadily towards the front door and looked Chris in the eye as he came inside.

Chris walked to the base of the stairs. "Yo! Mr. Wright's here." He walked into the living room. Justin was playing a videogame, and Lance was hunched over a book. "Turn it off, kid. We got a business meeting."

Justin sighed loudly, but saved the game and scrambled up on the couch between Chris and Lance.

Lance just looked nervous.

Joey clattered down the stairs, and JC walked in right afterwards. They both sat on the floor in front of the couch.

Mr. Wright sat on the chair opposite. He clapped his hands together in front of him. "I've got good news and bad news."

"Bad news first." Chris believed firmly that good things could wait, but bad news would bite you in the ass if you ignored it.

"They don't like the name *NSYNC and they don't like Lance."

Chris felt Justin throw himself back into the couch. He looked over to see Justin's arms crossed, but the kid's game face was in place. Lance, on the other hand, looked green. He was hunched even further down than normal, and his eyes were closed.

Chris looked back at Mr. Wright. "So they don't want to sign us."

"No, that's the good news. They do want to sign you. They think you're really talented and very polished."

"'Cept me." Chris looked over in time to see Lance's adam's apple bob up and down. Green eyes gleamed way too brightly.

Wright nodded. "You can have a contract tomorrow if you're willing to move on those two things."

Chris shook his head. "Not acceptable."

"Then I go in tomorrow and talk them out of it." Wright's smile grew bigger as he nodded his head.

"And what if they won't back down, Chris?" Justin sat up straighter. "This is the first label to show real interest in us. Maybe it's the only one that's gonna."

Joey laughed, a little shakily. "Justin, man, we're too good for that. The _five_ of us are too good."

JC said, "He's a bass and he learned the songs and dance routines in two weeks. There aren't too many of those the right age, J."

"It's not like he's really one of us."

Joey whacked his leg. "Justin!"

And here, Justin did lose control of his game face; his whiny tone and stuck out lower lip were a perfect match. "He's not. If he is, then why don't we—"

"**Justin!**" Chris was gratified that all of the other guys froze when he dragged out the 'mom' voice, but he could not let Justin bring stuff up in front of an outsider.

He looked over at the chair where Lou usually sat when he came to the house. Wright's face was pointed to his far left, but he sat pitched forward. Chris was pretty sure he was listening as hard as possible.

"Look, Mr. Wright. I put this group together. I picked these guys because they're talented enough, smart enough, and hungry enough to succeed. Lance's dancing isn't as good as the rest of ours." He winced when he heard a teeny, tiny moan from his side. "Yet. But his singing is better than Jason's was, and we _will_ get his dancing together by the time we're finished recording an album. If they don't want to sign Lance, they don't want to sign *NSYNC. And that's the only band in this room."

Chris walked Mr. Wright out after that.

When he got back to the living room, JC had disappeared, and Joey was curled up around Lance on the couch. Justin had switched over to the chair, his knees under his chin and arms wrapped around his legs.

"What the hell were you thinking, Justin?"

Justin raised his head. He looked as close to tears as Lance. "I want to get signed, Chris! We all want to get signed. And if the guy we _just_ met is the obstacle to getting signed, then I say he goes."

Chris stalked over, put his hands on the arms of the chair, and purposefully loomed over Justin. "Lance is not some guy. He's one of us."

"But he's _not!_ You guys don't…." Justin ducked his head back in his knees.

"You don't ever, ever talk about that with somebody else in the room. J, look at me." He reached out one hand, pulled the boy's face up. One tear trickled down, and he wiped it away. "Justin, you've _got_ to keep it secret. You know that." And he tweaked the kid's ear until he got a shaky nod. "And you know Lance is one of us, too."

The hint of a smile on Justin's pretty face turned into a frown. "Not yet. If he really was—."

"Jesus, J, okay. I'll fix it. No, actually, you're right. I shoulda done it already." Chris leaned down and kissed Justin's forehead, then turned around to face Lance and Joey.

Lance's face was red. Chris thought this was an improvement on the green. Lance was also crying. It was strange, the way the hitches and sighs and half-sobbed statements all came out in these deep, low murmurs. Chris was used to hearing his sisters, with voices high like his.

Joey had an arm running up and down Lance's back. His contribution to the conversation seemed to consist of muttered, "J's a stupid kid, you know that," and "We won't give you up," mixed with a few desperate, "It's all going to be _okay_." He looked at Chris with wide eyes; "I'm completely lost" was written all over his face.

Chris sat down and wrapped Lance up in his arms. The kid was _thin_, built like a girl, a skinny girl, and Chris could almost feel his ribs. He stroked the hair, fuzzy and brittle with bleach, and just waited the tears out.

It didn't take long. "My mom." Lance sighed, looked at the hands now folded in his lap. "My mom didn't want me to do this anyway. I've still got time to apply to college." He scrubbed at his cheeks a little more. "I know the four of y'all have this secret bond-thing going, and I'm not part of it. I don't want to be the reason y'all don't get a record deal." He smiled, or at least he curved his lips wide and showed all of his teeth. "It's real nice of you to tell Mr. Wright you won't do it without me, but," Lance shrugged, "it's okay. It's been real, but if it's over—I always wanted to be an astronaut, go to the moon. Can't do that if I'm a superstar." He grinned, and that was a lot more real than the smile.

Chris frowned, put his hand on Lance's cheek. "We don't have a secret-bond thing. It's just sometimes…." He didn't know how to explain. They never put it in words. It just happened, when they were trapped in a house, working, working, working all the time. "Let me show you." He leaned into Lance, very slowly, and kissed Lance's pretty mouth.

Lance kissed back, kissed hard. His mouth opened up. His tongue swept into Chris' mouth, slicked over his teeth, swept around the sensitive inner sides of his lips.

It was a little too much, and Chris pulled back, breathing hard. "That's it."

"That's it?" Lance's voice had dropped to a low, smooth rumble. He sounded like he wanted _inside_ of Chris.

A little voice in the back of Chris' mind said it would be a good thing to let him, but he shoved it down. "That's it. The secret handshake, the hidden symbol, the dues for the club. We," he waved a hand between his mouth and Lance's, "we keep things close." He let himself put a hand around Lance's wrist, run a finger up along his thumb. "You're one of us."

When Joey put an arm around Lance, Chris started. He'd almost forgotten the others during the kiss. He turned away, to let Joey and Lance have their moment.

He could see that Justin had no such qualms about watching. He gestured to him. When Justin was close enough, Chris put him in a headlock. "Is he one of us now, bright boy? Huh? Huh?"

"Yeah, yeah. Lemme go, man! Lemme go!" Justin had to force his words out past his giggles. Chris tickled him a bit for good measure, and then let him loose. "He will be when _I'm_ done with him."

Chris turned back to look at Lance and Joey. They were sitting a little bit further apart, but Joey was flushed as red as Lance and they were both breathing hard. Joey still hadn't learned that a kiss could be a destination in itself, and not just the prelude to something more intense.

Justin sprang up and faced Lance. He straddled the older boy's lap and dived in to the kiss. He pressed two of them farther into the couch, until Lance's head was bent all the way back, and he had climbed halfway up Lance's body.

"That's enough, Jup." Justin was still young enough that kissing was an Event of major proportions, but oxygen was occasionally treated as optional.

Justin pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk. "He tastes good. We're not doing this without him." He got up and went back to his videogame console.

"Whoa," said Lance. "Whoa."

Chris scooted over next to him, snuggled into his side. "You don't have to do anything else. You don't have to stay. But we want you to, and we'll fight to keep you as long as you fight to be here."

Lance nodded, blushed. "Can we—I mean, was that a one time thing?"

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [As You Like I Love You (being the First Part of The History of Justin Timberlake)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/188973) by [pensnest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensnest/pseuds/pensnest)




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